


Sign 01: He knows when to hold your hand.

by TerresDeBrume



Series: Signs he's a keeper [2]
Category: Norse Mythology, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:24:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usually, people tend to flee after they meet Fenrir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sign 01: He knows when to hold your hand.

**Author's Note:**

> OTP Challenge 1: Holding Hands.

Afterward -meaning about an hour after Loki discovered the newspaper with their pictures on it- they agree it was a fun night and all, but honestly the kiss is probably little more than a merry accident. Loki has always been a flirt, which Tony seems to echo, and he’s not ready for a relationship anyway. He doesn’t have time.  
  
He does, however, have (to make some) time for groceries shopping, and that’s where he ends up meeting Tony again, completely by accident, in the frozen goods aisle -Tony is holding two boxes of pizza, Loki is trying to decide between broccoli and Brussels sprouts.  
  
“Did someone ask you to poison the baby?” Tony asks in lieu of greetings, and Loki looks down at the cart.  
  
Fenrir is slumped over the handle, cheek pillowed on his stuffed dalmatian as he drools the evening away. It’s almost eight and a boy of two should be in bed by now, but sometimes groceries shopping simply can’t wait, so Loki swaddled him in his oversized green-and-silver scarf and resolved to take as little time as possible.  
(He’s still under the half-hour mark, but he doesn’t know if that will hold with Tony here.)  
  
“Broccoli or Brussels sprouts aren’t poisonous,” he sniffs, but the two bags still go back to the freezers. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d rather not take too long, I have a toddler to get to bed.”  
  
He takes a last look at the freezers and takes out a bag of frozen peas, another of carrots, and heads over to the bread and pastries aisle, hoping to find one or two decent-looking croissants.  
(He doesn’t spare time thinking back on the days when he could still find time to bake his own pancakes for breakfast… he had to kiss them goodbye when Fenrir came into his life.)  
  
“Right,” Tony says, falling into step beside him, “Sorry, I guess whoever had you babysit tonight is into rabbit food for kids.”  
  
In all honesty, it’s kind of disappointing.  
Of course, Tony isn’t supposed to know anything of Loki’s life and he can’t be blamed for making a few assumptions, however stereotypical they may prove, but it’s still kind of disheartening to hear him spit so much horsecrap a minute when their first encounter went so well.  
Still, Loki doesn’t have time to chase him, which is probably why Tony is still here when he reaches the cashier, and so Loki just kind of… plops a bag in Tony’s hands. Or maybe two.  
  
“What are these for?” Tony asks, and Loki rolls his eyes as he readjusts Fenrir’s bonnet on his head, making sure to cover the scars about his temples -for some reasons, they seem to be quite cold-sensitive.  
“If you’re going to follow me home, I’d rather you make yourself useful.”  
  
He  _did_  master the art of balancing two bags on his left arm with Fenrir and the last bag on the right, just two weeks ago, actually, but he’s not going to turn down the occasion to divest himself from half the weight, for once. Tony groans and complains about it all the way to Loki’s building -not even a minute away- then up the three flights of stairs -because the lift has broken down again, despite the fact that this is supposed to be some form of standing residence- and, when they finally reach the door, Tony sighs:  
  
“Why couldn’t you order that online?”  
“Evidently,” Loki replies as he busies himself with his keys, “You don’t know my boss.”  
  
There’s a reason why he and Victor have taken to call Mr. Lehnsherr ‘Trouble Magnet’. Not that he is _that_  much of an asshole, mind you, anybody who worked in Loki’s firm for more than two years could tell you Lehnsherr is a  _great_  improvement on Shaw, it’s just that Lehnsherr he….  
  
“He’s a bit obsessive about rules, and I’m going for a raise this year.” Having his boss catch him ordering diapers online wouldn’t really help him achieve his goal. “Plus I usually come home after delivery hours.”  
  
It’s nearly nine in the evening now, and Loki is starving, deeply grateful that Fenrir has eaten already -usually, Ororo cooks Loki’s meal too, before she leaves, but her own boy has been sick since New Year so Loki told her to go home and take care of him. It’s unpractical for his own life, but he knows Ororo’s husband is away for a business trip, so he’s not going to ask her to leave her kid alone.  
Still, when she comes back, she’s getting a thank you basket as big as she can carry because holy crap, she’s literally the only reason Loki still has a modicum of life outside his appartment. Well, that and the fact that most of his friends -read, Victor, Bastet, Coyote and Anansi- are just as busy as he is, though for different reasons.  
  
The first thing Loki does after dumping his bag in the kitchen and instructing Tony to do the same, is to go put Fenrir in bed. He’s painted the bedroom green, because it’s a gender-neutral color and it fits the appartment’s color scheme, but his bed is painted a vibrant yellow, flowers creeping up the feet and bars, with a small canopy about the head… it was Angrboda’s bed, Loki remembers, and she smacked his shoulder when he said the colors were too flashy for his taste.  
That was before, though.  
  
“You’re not babysitting, are you?”  
  
Loki kisses Fenrir’s forehead and smiles when the boy’s eyes flutter open, just long enough for a smile to float on his lips before he goes right back to sleep. When he straightens up, Loki finds Tony leaning against the doorframe, already divested of his leather jacket and gloves, and looking for all the world like he’s been doing that for months, maybe weeks.  
(Loki absolutely does not start at the thought of Tony living there, thank you very much. He’s too old to think about this kind of things after a week.)  
  
(God, and to think he’s barely even thirty.)  
  
“I used to go to university with his mother,” Loki says once he’s gotten Tony out of the way and closed the door. “Two years ago she visited me from Iceland. We were both lonely, we were tipsy… long story short, we forgot to use a condom. We were both clean, so that was mostly a formality, but Fenrir… well.” Loki shrugs. “She wanted to keep the baby, and I had enough money to be able to help, so she went back to Iceland with him and I sent pension checks and postcards. I wasn’t supposed to be a big part of his life, you know? But, well, a patch of ice where there shouldn’t have been any, slightly faulty breaks, and now I’m a single Dad.”  
  
Tony doesn’t answer except from a quiet ‘ah’, and that’s really nothing more or less than Loki was expecting. It’s funny because his friends, who are known to be gigantic assholes -because like calls to like, you see- have proven to be supportive as hell from the moment he got the phone call, but the nicer people around him are generally… well. Pretty unhelpful, if that. It’s only been six months but Loki has grown used to that little ‘ah’, if only because on the rare occasions when he went out in the evening -and seriously, bless Ororo- the various men or women he flirted with have all had that reaction when hearing he couldn’t stay too late or go back with them.  
That’s enough to make you want to give up one night stands altogether, really.  
  
“Do you want coffee,” Loki asks, “or are you afraid you’re going to catch a baby, too? It’s not contagious, in case you’re wondering.”  
“Hey.”  
  
  
Loki stops when he feels a hand take hold of his fingers and pull him back. He’s surprised to find Tony with a soft frown on his face, looking concerned but not quite offended, as though there’s something he didn’t understand.  
  
“Hey, I’m sorry things happened like that. I don’t mind that you have a kid, I just didn’t expect it is all.”  
“Lots of people don’t,” Loki says, eyebrows drawing into a frown of his own. “Usually they leave when they find out.”  
“Yeah well. Lots of people are idiots.”  
  
Tony’s face splits into a grin that reminds Loki of their first meeting and it makes him snort even as his stomach kind of tightens. He can practically  _feel_  his face soften when he asks:  
  
“So, coffee?”  
  
Tony might or might not hold his hand until they reach the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and reviews are allways appreciated, here or, if you're more comfortable under an anon cover, [on Tumblr](http://terresdebrumestories.tumblr.com/ask). Thanks for reading <3


End file.
